Security Measures
by The Weaver Atropos
Summary: Heero runs into a suspicious braided man at the Spacesport while on an undercover mission, and discovers being temporarily demoted into field work isn't as bad as it might seem. 1x2. AU.
1. I started out daydreaming

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Security Measures  
**_The Weaver Atropos_

_**Pairing**_:_ 1x2  
**Warning:** AU  
**Chapters:** 1/5  
**Time Frame: **12.30.2004 – 10.13.2005  
**Comments:** Kudos to my history teacher. He actually did this. Originally meant to be a lime (I think you can figure out where). A bit stream-of-consciousness, a bit alternate reality._

_And the headings are just my incredibly sad attempts at creative license. _

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**I started out daydreaming… **

He was playing the part of a customs officer.

Why? He had no idea.

He was angry, though, and his usual air of defiance and solitude was heightened to a degree of latent danger. Everyone around him took extra caution not to rouse his suspicion or tweak his nerves, so as to not have to bear the full weight of his glare.

He was not in the best of moods. And that much was obvious—if not by his curt manner of speech, then definitely by his jerky bodily motions. As it was, he'd been assigned to the far east wing of the International Space Port Airlines, so that he had to walk a grandiose half a mile before being able to check in with the rest of the bodyguard staff every assigned hour. Having been there since morning, he'd walked a good five miles or so.

That did not sit well with him.

He wasn't sure if he was more upset that he had to fill the least dangerous and involved part of the entire protection project, or if he was annoyed that he had been assigned so far away from the rest of the team. He couldn't help feeling a little less than useless, he was so far off. Should he spy something suspicious, it would take him a little less fifteen minutes to report it on foot, nevermind all the obstacles that might arise. But hoping for shifty behavior at _that_ extreme of the Airline was ridiculous.

He was in the damned _children's_ boarding area, for god's sakes. After five hours of being stepped on, confronted with crying children, and faced with more girls in pig-tails swooning over their 'Prince Charming,' he feared he'd developed somewhat of a twitch. He would've complained to his Lieutenant, were it not for the fact that he knew that every inch of the complex had to be adequately scourged and guarded; there was never a safe place—it was always the underestimated that became one's Achilles' heel.

So, he had saluted to his Lieutenant, slightly annoyed that he had been reassigned from his position as Head Cryptographer at the P. P. Investigations Government agency to fieldwork—for the time being, anyway—and taken up his post. His investigative side had been gladdened to note his area of vision was relatively clear, not many suspicious targets, the few that were, were stopped at the metal detector and taken away if necessary.

There was only one left. He'd been circling the Spaceport for the better part of an hour, and whether that was because he was waiting for his flight, or due to some ulterior motive, Heero didn't know. But he was a…suspicious character. With a long, trailing plait of chestnut that grazed the curve of his behind every few steps, and eyes bearing the strangest semblance to amethyst, the young man had stuck out to Heero…and warranted surveillance as a result of it.

He'd been watching him…convincing himself that he was only keeping an eye on him, despite the odd fascination he had with his hair…with that thick braid. He kept his eyes trained on it…kept Prussian depths focused on the most luscious—

"Captain. Captain Yuy." Narrowing his eyes slightly, Heero made a slight movement with his right hand, looking as though he were combing his fingers through his hair, and adjusted the transmitter at his ear. "All clear," he muttered darkly, eyes still vigilant of the capped young man.

"No suspicious characters?"

Prussian eyes flashed on the now sitting form, dallying in toying with the end of his braid. "None."

"None?"

Heero bit down the urge to growl, and shook his head no, knowing his Lieutenant wouldn't be able to see the action, but accustomed to it just as well, as he was a man of few words. "None," he finally repeated, just in time to see that mischievous brown head turn curiously to meet his gaze—having been aware of it for quite a while—and wink. He stiffened.

"Roger that. We'll be waiting for you in another half hour, Yuy. Wrap everything else in the next few minutes, and we'll send Otto to fill in the gap. Colonel wants you here for the briefing."

"Roger that."

With that, he felt the communications link in his ear go dead, and slipped a hand into his right pocket to terminate the connection for the time being. If he kept it on, the metal detecting device would go off whenever he approached it, so he turned it off until exactly forty-five minutes after the given hour. It was at that point that his commanders would inform him of any changes in the plan.

Amidst his musings, the final call for the flight to Berlin, Germany rang out above him, and glancing momentarily at the loudspeakers to his far right, he failed to see the braided young man stand up leisurely and raise his hands above him in a lazy stretch. When he let his gaze fall back to where the young man had been sitting, furry, chocolate eyebrows shot upwards in surprise, and he looked about him quickly. He was offset by a deep, husky chuckle coming from somewhere to his right.

Turning to it abruptly, never having enjoyed being the brunt of laughter, he collided with the same pair of eyes he had locked onto earlier. Twinkling amethyst sparkled amusedly into deep blue. In a fluid motion he would've described akin to a cat, the braided youth before him brought up his hands in an absent shrug and cocked his head. "Are ya gonna check me, or should I just board?"

Prussian eyes narrowed dangerously. Heero had never been one to offer confidence, familiarity. Even those closest to him hardly dared to tease or bait him in such a way. The specimen before him apparently had no such qualms. It was strangely…

"Walk through the detector."

His tone was rude, calloused. But the other didn't seem to mind, flashing him a wide smile instead—wavering a bit at the corners at his lack of response—but remaining full force despite it all, as he adjusted the blue cap atop his wispy bangs. He strode through the metal arch confidently, if not curiously, and a peculiar look flickered in his eyes when a beep rang out. Heero's eyes narrowed furthered, barely slits, and he motioned for the man to walk through once more.

The other complied, raising his hands in a gesture of defeat before walking back through the detector, only to have it ring again. When he turned back, it was with a suggestive little smile, and with hands already delved into pockets. Heero's next words were unnecessary, but he said them nonetheless. "Empty your pockets."

Heero extended a small, lavender box towards the young man, subconsciously comparing its hue to that of the man's eyes, his own Prussian orbs shifting upwards to ascertain that exact shade of color. A slight blush filtered into his cheeks then, when he realized the boy was looking curiously in his direction, as if wondering why his gaze lingered, and it would have been noticeable, if not for his tanned skin. "Walk through again."

Another beep.

"Passport."

Amethyst eyes shined absently at the absence of the customary 'please,' but extended a maroon passport just the same. "Colonies," the young man supplied needlessly, maroon being the color protocol for natives of the colonies.

Heero thumbed through the passport swiftly, remembering his Lieutenant's order that he make all necessary preparations within fifteen minutes, and stopped when he landed on a quirky picture. He raised his eyebrow incredulously, frown drawing his eyebrows together as he inspected the waving youth that grinned idiotically from the passport. He glanced upwards at the young man, then at his picture and back again. As if perceiving Heero's indecision, the young man—Duo, by his passport—pulled off his cap, ran his fingers hastily through his disheveled bangs, and flashed him a wide grin.

As if that stupid look was mistakable. Heero doubted it was even reproducible.

"Keys out? Cell phone, wallet…" he hesitated, and then…"any piercings?"

A sultry little smile. "Just one, but it shouldn't be a problem."

"All right then. Walk through, _again._" There was a slight hint of aggravation in his tone, as though he couldn't wait for the damned man to get on the plane. Protocal was a bitch, sometimes. And, just then, Duo's smile wavered the smallest bit.

He walked through, a little surprised himself when the beeping recommenced, and glanced at Heero apologetically. "It's not like I wanna miss my plane either," he murmured, eyes sweeping downwards quickly.

Heero positively glowered, but stepped back to retrieve the manual detector. "Step forward," he muttered, glancing at his watch with a bit of a scowl. Duo did as he was told, unzipping his black leather jacket as he did so, letting it fall off his shoulders at Heero's command.

He spread his arms and legs as the young man hovered the black device over him, passing it past his shoulders, over his chest, down his thighs and around his calves. Then, he was behind him, and Duo bit his lip uncertainly when he felt the heat the other radiated as he searched him from behind. Damn, but was it an alluring change in position.

Frowning, Heero returned to his front, having not heard a sound, and was swinging the machine back into its cubby, when a small beeping ran out.

Right at the juncture of the man's thighs.

"Maybe it's the belt?"

Heero heeded the suggestion despite himself, waving the detector roughly before the man's black belt, and was satisfied when the beeping recommenced. He was about to wave Duo forward when a sweeping glance at the clock showed that it was 1:45. Frowning, and wondering why the hell Otto hadn't come to the replace him, Heero made that same, discrete movement he'd made earlier and flipped on his transmitter. A sardonic voice greeted him.

"About time, Yuy…a little later and the whole mission would've been screwed over."

Duo was looking at him curiously, as if not sure whether to proceed or remain where he was, having been given a curt nod by the young man before, only to have his eyebrow quirk reprovingly at him. He was attractive, Duo admitted, in a mysterious way that seemed more enticing than discouraging.

Heero meanwhile, was trying to keep as impassive a look as he could muster, not wanting to seem as though he were spacing out as he listened to Une's directives. "There's a character hanging around. Your gate. Berlin, apparently. There's been a call from the security personnel of the Vice Foreign Minister. It seems something's been stolen. A metal of sorts. It should ring out on your detector when it comes through. Pay attention. Out."

Meanwhile, Duo had gathered his belongings, shoving his wallet back into his back pocket, and storing his passport in his jacket pocket. He was in the process of shifting his change back into his pockets when Heero's voice broke through the relative silence of the large gate waiting area. Most everyone had boarded but him. "Have you been anywhere near the Vice Foreign Minister, lately?" The voice was cautious…suggestive and laced with danger.

The young man responded with a inquisitive glance, and another seductive little smile. "The Vice Foreign Minister? Now who would that be?"

"Jacket, off—"

"Wha? I—I'm gonna miss my—"

"Now, or you're missing it regardless for insubordination against an officer."

Seeming skeptic, but not having much other choice, Duo pulled off his jacket once more, left in a loose fitting button down black shirt, left open to reveal a silky red undershirt. Heero inspected the revealed flesh with a trained eye. "Belt off."

"What!" Now the braided man seemed hesitant—if not outright confused by Heero's commands. "Listen, man—I'm gonna miss my flight and—"

"Belt off." The words were ground out, no room for discussion.

Amethyst eyes bored incredulously into him, "You're not _serious_ are you?"

The raised, thick chocolate eyebrow suggested that, yes, he _was_ serious. When Duo didn't move, and, actually, made a motion to push past him, Heero had pushed him into a nearby wall, so that the man's violet eyes widened to near saucers. It seemed as though, for the first time since Heero had encountered him, he finally had the upper hand.

That lasted mere seconds.

When Heero's hands came to the man's belt, recalling his initial suspicions of the man and coupling it with Une's newfound warning, he found that the other gave him the oddest of looks before stilling completely. "You know, I wouldn't go there unless I were planning on following through…"

Heero didn't bother to hide his confusion to _that_ remark. Dark eyes narrowing, he pressed the other man a bit more roughly into the adjoining wall, knowing for all the world they must have been quite a sight for the passerby. Echoing his thoughts, the braided man struggled against his grip, "You want to do this _here_, in front of all these people?"

_What the hell…?_

Seeking to get the man to cease whatever inane babble he was spouting, he slammed him further into the metal wall, seeing those amethyst eyes wince in pain, and eliciting another wry comment.

"Belt _off_."

Those eyes opened again and glared at him a bit rudely. A mocking smile replaced the shining one that had been there earlier. "How 'bout _you_ take it off, if you're so eager."

Duo hadn't really thought he would. To be honest, the man had intrigued him the moment he'd seen him, decked out in a dark navy that highlighted his eyes to the fullest, parading around almost stiffly through the East Asian wing of the spaceport. Duo had memorized his routine…he'd observed how the youth would disappear every hour, only to return after another half hour, another man replacing him for the time span in between. He had, in turn, seen the man see him, he'd felt that hot, inquisitive gaze on his body, and had turned. Only to come face to face with the most soul-searching of eyes he had ever seen in his entire life.

He was of oriental descent, he'd guessed, just close enough to discern the slight exotic slant to the man's eyes, suddenly enraptured by the asian man who seemed—otherwise—so Western. His complexion, though tan, was smoother than most, and his dark mossy, unruly hair defied the limp, straight stereotype that denoted those of Eastern oriental heritage. He seemed like a mix. There was an air of something European in him…something royal…

And his personality seemed so at odds with his looks. Seeing him, one would imagine him vulnerable, fragile…docile, even; yet, as close as he was now, Duo could see that the young man was anything but. He had a cold aura about him, and his gaze was uncouth and his manner brusque. He seemed like deadly porcelain doll. Beautiful, but deadly.

And beautiful he was…though that would normally not be a word he'd use to describe a man. He was of small build—sinewy, from what he'd discerned, and was a warm mass of coiled muscle. He'd figured that much when he'd lifted a fat, chubby, incredibly large child by the shirt and managed to sustain him in one hand until his parents retrieved him. He had seemed awfully uncomfortable with the boy…and dear God, the little girls had swarmed about him as though he were the Prince of England.

By the time the call for his flight had rung out, he had approached the young man at the post of customs security with a mixture of uneasiness and excitement. He thought him attractive, intriguing at the very least, but he was also the slightest bit intimidated by what could happen…and when he was intimidated…he tended to say the stupidest things.

Which was why he wasn't surprised when he had started flirting with the officer. In a very sexual manner.

He _was _surprised when said officer smacked him up against a nearby wall, demanding that he pull off his belt. As…physically stimulating at the man was, being pressed so unexpectantly into a hardly pliable surface had rattled his nerves. So, naturally, he had struggled. And discovered the other man was able to keep him in check.

So, naturally, he'd cracked another ill-devised sexual joke. Which, being pinned by an obviously temperamental, passionate man, might not have been the best thing to do. His mind worked in the most illogical of ways, sometimes.

He finally quirked an eyebrow in amusement—taunting, perhaps—when the other hesitated, not seeming entirely sure of pulling off his belt. "That's what I thought."

And, he was pushing the blue-eyed man from him, ready to proceed to the gate where a young woman was checking in the very last passenger, when Heero pushed him back against the metal grating, and worked his fingertips against his buckle.

Violet eyes stilled in absolute astonishment.

Duo had quieted completely when the man's hands came to his belt, never having thought he would actually _dare_ to pull it off him, and, sensing his sudden pause, Heero looked up to meet his gaze.

A startling amount of _something_ passed through them. And, were he one for clichés, Heero might have described it as something akin to electricity. It was the first time he had looked into the other's eyes so closely. It was one thing to see them, as he was talking, crinkled in thought, and another entirely to have them a mere centimeters from his own, looking for all the world like a moonlit lavender pool.

He had secrets. A lot of them. One glimpse into the darkness that lay nestled beneath the pale, amethyst eyes suggested as much. "I'm gonna miss my plane."

The words were uttered to distract him, to tear him away from his gaze…as though—as though there were something there the other didn't want him to see.

At his lack of response, Duo looked swiftly about, gauging the amount of bystanders nearby, thinking there'd be too many witnesses if he were to suddenly punch the officer in the gut and run off toward the plane. It probably wouldn't even take off, should he do _that_. Besides…there was a certain comfort in feeling the other man so close to him, heat rolling off his body in waves.

Duo could almost _feel_ his anger. It made him shiver…and he really didn't want to leave.

He just wished that the damned guy would get off him already, before he did something stupid. It were one thing that he _react_ to the man's comments and actions, it was another entirely that he initiate something of his own accord. Still, the better part of his manhood ached at the contact he was denying it, and remembered it had been a long time since he'd last let another touch him. He'd been hurt too much the other time, and he couldn't help the image of a smiling blond that filtered into his senses then. He flinched when Heero's fingertips left his belt.

He didn't bother opening his eyes. He knew what he'd find once he did. It would be the officer, scowling at him, eyes narrowed and asking him what the hell he was trying to pull off. "Your plane…is delayed."

The words were tentative, as though its speaker were unsure of how to treat the close-eyed, seemingly pained young man.

Duo simply nodded in response, hands clenching almost painfully, and slumped a little against the wall. His eyes were still shut.

He was lost in his memory…

And suddenly he wasn't at the Spaceport anymore…he was in the country, a lithe, bubbly little blonde at his side, a picnic basket in his arms.

They were on Earth, the blonde having insisted that they have a _real_ picnic before returning to the colonies, and were walking through a thick expanse of wheat fields. He remembered the way the sun had warmed his own cheeks and had pinkened the other's. He recalled the scent of the lavender gentians growing about—weeds to the wheatfield—and his companion scooping down to tear one, bringing it close to his face and inhaling almost blissfully…

Alluringly…

Pleasurably…

He remembered how those blonde locks had moistened with sweat later that afternoon…how they'd tossed to and fro in rapture and ecstasy…how his name had fallen like a mantra from those sweet, dulcet lips.

He could almost feel those soft fingertips against his lips, tracing the contours of his face—yearning to elicit a smile from him. He recalled the feeling of the small blonde nestled in his arms, breath rising steadily…slowly…contentedly.

And then it was all gone.

The smile he gave the officer when he awoke from his reverie was bitter, deadened and hollow. He gave a small wave, braid falling thickly on his back as he turned, starting a brisk walk toward the exit—not bothering to recollect his wallet, passport, or luggage.

And that brisk walk became a jog, and later a run.

The officer watched on with a quirk in his brow, seeing the other man—even from that distance—raise a hand to his face, his eyes, and rub at them impatiently.

He was finally distracted when Otto arrived, looking sheepish, but smiling nonetheless. "Sorry, got held up at Security. They didn't believe I was from the Preventers Unit. The Lieutenant is near an aneurysm—she's screaming bloody hell on them all. She says you're dismissed. She said she'd, 'have a talk with that Yuy later.'"

Nodding, and picking up a plain brown, faded leather wallet, the young officer slung a small backpack over his shoulder and pocketed a maroon passport.

* * *

_...Sexy Heero likes reviews..._


	2. And then woke up hungover

**_

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_****_Security Measures_****_  
_**_The Weaver Atropos_

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**And then woke up hungover--**

Duo wasn't sure when he became aware that he had left everything at the spaceport. Sometime afterwards, after having run a good four or five miles, he had realized he had no money, identification, or clothes.

He certainly couldn't go back to his apartment. He'd already terminated his contract with the landlord. Nevermind the damned man hadn't even attended to his needs; he hadn't had running water for the better part of three months, yet still paid the rent as though he were living in a lavish five-star hotel.

A hotel…

He would've gone to one if it weren't for the money issue. He'd left his credit cards in his wallet and, despite it all, he damn well didn't feel like going back to the Spaceport to claim his belongings. If anything, that anal officer that had checked him would turn in the stuff to the Spaceport's 'Lost and Found' department, and he'd go pick them up later.

But he wouldn't, _didn't_ want to go back if that man was going to be there. His gaze—however enticing it might have been—was too penetrating and intimidating for him to handle. It reminded him of things he didn't want to remember.

It made him aware of what he was missing.

With a frown, and realizing he really only had one place to go, Duo made a point of changing directions and making his way downtown. He looked upwards when he felt a pelt of rain hit him squarely on the nose. It was dark already, and by the time he got to the bar, it'd probably be raining horribly, but he'd risk it. It was either sleep at the bar, or catch pneumonia on the park bench.

It wasn't as though he had never been through that before.

He just hoped Trowa wouldn't mind his rooming with him until he mustered enough courage to revisit the Spaceport. Somehow, he had the strange feeling that the young officer had kept his documents instead of turning them in.

Maybe Trowa would get them for him. The tall brunette knew how to handle himself, after all. He was as quiet as the young officer had been—less impetuous, even. But…Duo doubted Trowa would get involved in his affairs. The waiter was of the belief that one had to learn to vouch for himself. He'd offer him advice, but not much else unless Duo were in dire _need_ of it.

The violet-eyed youth was a good five-more blocks from the locale, which was a small bar adjoined to a larger, more mainstream club. The two were often referred to as one and the same, though they weren't, and Trowa often shifted from one side of the place, to the other, waiting on tables. The boy had an apartment atop the Ecstasy—the name of the bar-club—and had a habit of letting Duo crash whenever the occasion merited it. And, as of late, Duo had been scarce around the place.

It was too much of a bad influence.

He was of the situational type. If he were put in so tempting a position, then he surely would react to his surroundings. Trowa knew _that_ much. Whenever he visited his stoic friend, he'd end up dead-drunk, or fooling around in someone else's car...And that ground on Trowa's nerves.

…Which was why he'd been hesitant to come around. The last time he'd shown his face, he'd gotten into a fight that had nearly gotten Trowa fired and the two had had a glorious argument afterward—Trowa with his incriminating gaze, and Duo with his flailing arms and accusatory shouts.

He winced at the memory. He knew the young man wouldn't be mad at him; curious, maybe—perhaps even a bit teasing at his absence, but certainly not angry. Trowa wasn't the type to hold a grudge. Still, he was tentative about entering the bar when he finally arrived. It was more out of shame than any real fear.

As he was debating whether he should turn back—soaked to the bone as he was—the door to Ecstasy opened, and a tall, curious brunette spied him with an almost amused expression. "Hey, Duo."

Duo nodded his greeting, shivering despite himself, and cast his friend an apologetic smile. "I…I missed my plane."

A single, chocolate eyebrow rose.

Damn it, but did Trowa's expressions make him feel stupid. "Some officer stopped me, so I couldn't go through in time."

At that, Trowa nodded, used to bailing his friend out of jail for his repeated slipups and Freudian slips. Duo glared. "I didn't do anything. The damned guy just got it in that I had something he wanted. Nearly made me strip for it."

Catching the forlorn expression, Trowa stepped aside to let Duo walk through, pausing just enough to toss the garbage bag he'd brought outside into a nearby trashcan.

Inside it was considerably warmer and, and even though the pulsating beat of the club gave him a pounding headache, he was glad to be in shelter. "Go change. Stuff's upstairs."

With those words and an absent push, Trowa sent Duo in the direction of his apartment, pressing his keys into the youth's hand.

It had been a while since he'd been up there. Running his fingertips down the arm of Trowa's plush, velvet-covered sofa, he plopped down experimentally, shifting left and right until he melted into its soft contours. "Now…_this_ is the life."

* * *

"So, do you think you could run a check for me? On a certain," the young officer glanced downwards for a moment, scanning the maroon passport in his hand, "Duo Maxwell?"

Another young man, with dark ebony hair and slanted, exotic eyes, looked curiously towards him. "Any particular reason why, Yuy? You're not usually the type to get involved in matters of the Lost and Found. There's a box for that, you know."

That last bit was said in amusement. "I would leave it there. If not for the fact that I doubt he'd come back for them. He's afraid of me, for some reason or other. Besides," Heero dug out the rest of the documents from his pockets, "he left enough stuff behind for anyone to steal his identity."

The ebony-haired man nodded. "Yeah, all right. Come back in a few days. The check will be done in two or three hours, but then I've got to scavenge through the results. You'd be surprised at the amount of Maxwells in the area…though none have the name 'Duo' as far as I know. Is that what they call him, or his name?"

"His name, as far as his passport and license say."

"Allright then. I'll give you a call on Wednesday."

* * *

God, but had it been a while since he'd had a warm shower. His last landlord had taken it upon himself to save money by cutting the hot water in his apartment. He wouldn't have even lived in that dumped if it hadn't been so close to his workplace. At least Trowa didn't mind.

"Not like I'd listen to him if he did," on that final thought, Duo stretched languidly, yawning a bit as he reached for the shampoo at the far right edge of the bathtub. Trowa's hair was so cost effective. Duo had learned, through experience, to buy shampoo bottles by the dozen, since he used them up after two or three showers. His hair was awfully difficult to take care of. And yet, he would never consider cutting it. Not at _all._

The young man gathered as much of his hair as he could, stooping down a little to catch it at the very tips, and lathered it up in sweet, coconut smelling shampoo. It was better than the generic brand he used. Apparently, if your shampoo lasted you a near two-months, you could afford the nicer stuff. "Now there's a lesson to be learned."

Duo worked his way upwards slowly, closing his eyes and wondering what time it was, when he was vaguely aware of the ringing of a telephone. He decided to disregard it, knowing full well it'd stop ringing before he even doused his hair, climbed out of the shower, and went to answer it. He tuned it out by habit, humming an old song to himself, only mildly aware of the cacophony the difference between it, and the pounding from downstairs, created.

After his hair was washed and the water began running cold, Duo pushed aside the curtain of the shower, momentarily debating to go downstairs or not, and decided against it. He felt a bit sick as it was, and he didn't want to risk getting into a row with Trowa. Especially not after the youth had received him so nicely.

He dried himself with an old, well-worn terry towel, and sighed sleepily. The stress of the day was catching up to him.

* * *

"You fell asleep early last night."

Emerald eyes studied him curiously, "I half-expected you to come downstairs and find trouble."

Duo grinned lopsidedly at his friend and rubbed wearily at his eyes, "Yeah, well…I was dead tired." The young man paused for a minute and sobered a bit, "Listen, Trowa—do you think you could do me a favor?"

"That depends," his eyes glittered curiously, "what is it?"

The braided youth heaved a sigh as he spooned himself some fried eggs, dipping them into ketchup before chewing thoughtfully. "That guy—he has all my stuff."

"What guy?" The look in Trowa's eyes changed from amused to guarded. He'd borne witness to enough of Duo's escapades to know half of what the young man did tended to get him into trouble—and into infinitely more heartbreak.

"At the spacesport. When I missed my plane."

"I meant to ask you about that—" Trowa rose and removed the pitcher of coffee from the brewing machine, "—why exactly did you miss your flight?"

"That guy…he had it in against me. I don't know."

The sadness in Duo's amethyst depths was unmistakable. "Nothing else?" Trowa had only seen his friend that upset one other time…and it had taken him years to mend—even now, he wasn't as he had once been.

"Can you?"

Trowa took a sip of his coffee, "Pick up your stuff?"

"Yeah?"

"Only if you come along. I don't intend on being questioned by an officer on why I need someone else's personal belongings."

Duo smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

* * *

"There you have it, Duo Maxwell—twenty two years old, works as a mechanic, apparently from L2…_and_, here's the doozy…apparent protégé of a so-called 'Professor G'. Name ring a bell?"

Heero shrugged, "Not particularly." He _did_, however, have the funny feeling he'd heard about the man before.

Wufei quirked a brow at his apparent thoughtlessness, "Intelligence 101—first year Preventer training…this guy here—" he pointed at G's name for emphasis, "is one of the five responsible for orchestrating a failed rebellion a few years past. And this guy," now he pointed at Duo's grinning picture, "is likely to have been one of the recruits that actually _acted_ out the plans. Master and puppet all in one."

Dark prussian eyes narrowed slightly, "You mean _the_ Professor G—from the Sweepers?"

"The one and only."

"And how can we be sure this one here," he pointed to Duo, "is involved?"

At the question, Wufei give a bit of a shrug, wrinkles crinkling his forehead, "We can't…but there's a pretty good chance. The guy's twenty-two, lives in sub-sufficient conditions, yet has connections to one of the more powerful men in the underworld."

"So why isn't he rich?" The story didn't seem to fit all that perfectly together.

"We don't have any concretes…but it's a fair bit to assume he has no idea exactly how influential G is. My guess is that the kid thinks he's working for the bettering of _something_. Doesn't realize he's playing the Pinocchio to some Gippeto."

"That's your only guess?"

"Or, alternately," he glared at Heero a bit for the man's assumption, "he worked for him in the past, and no longer does. That would explain his living conditions. G might have blacklisted him for something he did, or refused to do."

"Sounds more plausible."

Ebony eyes focused on his, "Sounds less complicated, you mean. What's your interest? He's a bit of a street kid."

A small smirk tugged at the corners of Heero's lips, "He's older than you are, why call him a kid?"

"You're evading my question, and he looks like one."

He did look younger. At least in his teens. And that braid did very little to assuage any assumptions otherwise. From what he had gleamed from their encounter, Heero could also guess half of it came from the man's vibrant personality. Still…he'd been pressed up against that body—though not with sensual intentions—and he couldn't rightly well deny that that body hadn't been one of a man. "There's something about it—"

Wufei seemed a little displeased. "You're telling me you're using police security to satisfy some curiosity?"

"Not exactly. I'm not entirely convinced of his innocence in regard to what was stolen from the Vice-Foreign-Minister."

Black eyes narrowed, "What was stolen, exactly?" News hadn't reached his department, yet. Though it would—and soon. If the field-detectives couldn't find something, the work was turned over to the capable hands of intelligence soon enough. Normally, Heero would have been working with Wufei, but under the circumstances…the former of the two had found himself transversing with rookies—under the guise of 'showing them the ropes.' He knew Heero hated field work and sympathized with the man. It couldn't be much better when you had a whole lot of incapable teen hopefuls, already training for the Preventers.

"Communications device. Nothing incredibly valuable. At least…not until you brought up the G connection. In light of things, that little satellite system might prove a lot more valuable to whatever organization G's supporting."

"You think he knows?"

"We might have to send recon to figure that out. I don't think detectives at this point would be prudent. Better to sniff him out in his premises first. That way we have a sort of dossier on him before he guard's up at a detectives visit."

"What about you?"

"Me?" the mossy-haired man seemed startled, "What about me?"

"You seem to be a weakness to him; and you've already had an encounter. Why not look into it? It's a good a chance as any for a promotion."

Heero frowned. "I don't do field work."

Wufei smiled teasingly, "Think of it as cryptography with a twist. We're all symbols…and you've got to get to symbol Duo…and figure him out, before you'll get the coding to symbol G. How's that for motivation."

The Japanese man rolled his eyes. "Not very good. See you around."

"See you."

* * *

_Sexy Duo likes reviews, too..._


	3. And I was Looking at You and Seeing

**

* * *

**

_**Security Measures**  
The Weaver Atropos_

* * *

**And I was Looking at You and Seeing Someone Else **

"Where did you say he was?"

"Right there," Duo raised a pale finger and pointed it in the direction of Gate 56B, where, days ago, the young officer had been paroling around. He looked anxiously about himself, half-expecting the man to materialize before him and take him to some sort of detention hall in cuffs and chains.

"He's not here."

Insightful observation, Trowa. Duo held back the urge to offer a biting reply, knowing his friend was there largely of his own will, giving up precious hours of sleep to help him pick up his stuff. Which he had stupidly left behind. _And_ been too frightened to pick up on his own.

God, but was he stupid.

"I'm sorry, Trowa," Duo fussed with his bangs and offered an apologetic smile, "I really thought…"

"Don't worry about it," the taller man let his hand fall lightly on his friend's chestnut hair, tousling it as best he could, "let's go check the lost and found."

It had always been like this; Trowa had always—from as far back as he could remember—been like a brother to him. He'd always been there to guide him, bail him from trouble, teach him how to fend for himself…comfort him. His eyes stung as the memory of that little blonde once more, and he found himself faltering in his steps, falling a bit behind the brunette as they approached general security.

"Excuse me," Trowa offered the redhead at the counter a genial smile, "a friend of mine left his passport, luggage, and other such identifications here a few days ago."

The woman cast a Duo a lingering glance, "This your friend?"

Trowa nodded. "Name?"

"Duo Maxwell," his voice quivered as he said it.

The woman gave another sharp nod, her full bangs bobbing up and down and she typed into a computer terminal. She pursed her lips in thought before giving him another lasting look. "No records, I'm afraid."

Duo sputtered, "What! But—I was here—at Gate 56B…flight to Berlin…"

"Day?"

"Uh…day…Saturday 31st. This past weekend."

"Cause for cancellation of flight?"

"I didn't cancel…it…persay—"

Dark brown eyes sized him up mercilesslesly, "You walked off?"

"No. One of the officers—delayed me."

"Name of the officer?"

Amethyst eyes looked toward Trowa pleadingly. Wasn't there any other way?

"Name of officer?" Those same brown eyes were on him again, their expression stern and suspicious.

"I don't…" Duo paused…trying to remember, but a name simply didn't crop on in his head, "He was asian…brown hair—these…really—blue eyes? I mean, it's an inexplicable kind of shade…and he didn't talk much—kinda stern…I…I don't—"

But his rant had seemed to trigger a certain recognition in the woman. "I'll check the database to see who was on shift that day."

Duo nodded and gave his thanks, then turned away and shrugged at Trowa…but the brunette merely eyed him strangely. "That's an odd description, Duo. I'm surprised it rung a bell."

The young man flushed, "Yeah well. His eyes are…really out there." He tapped his finger incessantly on the counter until the woman turned back to him.

"Confirmed. Heero Yuy," she paused for a minute and spun the monitor to face him, "This your guy?"

Duo stared at the irritated face glaring at him from the screen, and spied those deep, irresistible prussian eyes one more. "Yeah," his voice was hoarse, "that's him."

* * *

" 100 Newport Drive," Heero stared at the piece of paper in his hands, wondering if Wufei had gotten the information right, and scanned his surroundings. He was currently at 5 Newport Drive, and the direction of rising numbers was farther and farther from civilized society, and closer to the heart of the city's slums. He frowned a little. He really hadn't pegged the bubbly young man from a week ago to be living in that type of area. "Wufei _did_ say he lived in sub-sufficient housing…"

The young man walked regardless, never once having been the type to be intimidated by looks or threatening advances, and glared at whoever dared stand in his way. Finally, he came to the building—apartment housing—and found the front entrance. "Excuse me?"

His call received no answer, and a cautious check of the knob revealed the door was open. He peeked slowly inside, taking in the sight of the plush—albeit tattered sofa—and the grease stains splattered throughout the maroon carpet. "Excuse me?"

At his second call a balding man appeared, he was short, and round around the middle, and sported a sweaty gray tee and long, cargo shorts. "Ya here for the room?"

"Room? No sir, I'm looking for a Duo Maxwell," he paused and flashed his badge, "private matter."

"That kid? He's been gone for about a week. Going to earth, he said."

Brown brows drew together, "Do you have any idea where he is now? We have evidence that suggests he hasn't left the colonies."

"Probably at that bar. Spends all his time there. That boy…not on a good path—following bad footsteps."

The man paused in his rant to stare at Heero, "He's not in too bad a trouble, now, is he?"

"No, sir, not at all. We've got some things that need to be returned to him, is all."

"Right, then."

* * *

Duo shifted nervously from foot to foot. The lady at the spaceport had transferred them to this address—a Preventer's Headquarters, and Duo had a feeling he had stepped smack dab in the place he most wanted to avoid. Professor G's voice rung in his head like a mantra, reminding him constantly of the many type of situations to avoid—of which stepping into any type of police headquarters was atop the list. "Maybe we should go?" he cast Trowa a hopeful expression, but the man simply shrugged.

"If they have your information, it's only a matter of time before they find you. Better to go looking and appear innocent—than be chased and seem guilty."

The braided youth kicked at a pebble and waited. They'd rung the bell a few seconds ago and were making time as they wondered whether they were expected to go in, or if someone was going to escort them inside. When he finally got up the nerve to try the knob, he discovered it had opened at the moment he'd pressed the bell.

"Hello," Duo flashed his trademark toothy grin at the receptionist sitting at a wide, maple desk to the far right. The floor was marbled, and his heels clicked as he walked towards her. "I was told to come here to find a Heero Yuy?"

The receptionist—who was young and raven-tressed—smiled back sweetly at Duo, a stark contrast to the redhead back at the spacesport. "Name please?"

"Uh, Duo Maxwell," he glanced back to find Trowa had found a chair to the far left of the waiting area, and was leafing lazily through an old computer magazine.

"Do you have an appointment?"

"Well," Duo stared her full in the face, cocking his head slightly and turning on the charm, "I was referred here by the Spaceport. My belongings were taken without my permission…" his smile turned slightly dangerous.

"Were they?" the girl's demeanor changed entirely, "without permission you say?"

"They weren't dropped off at the lost and found where they should've been. And I've come to reclaim them."

She nodded, "All right then. Would you like to wait in Mr. Yuy's office?"

"If it wouldn't be much of a problem."

"None at all, sir." She paused and smiled boyishly at him once more. "By the way, my name is Hilde—Hilde Schebeiker."

"Nice to meet you, Miss Schebeiker."

* * *

It was a dead end if he'd ever seen one. All that work, for nothing. He wagered Wufei would have a fit if he found out he'd been slaving over documents bearing the nom "Maxwell" for nothing. He _had_ gleaned some sort of information, though—for starters, that—for all Wufei had thought up in the man's defense, his landlord seemed to think he was in bad company…which could mean a whole lot of things—but he was primarily concerned with what the man had said about his habits.

_"He disappears for days at a time…and comes back exhausted—looking sick, sometimes his friend even brings him to his room. He's always got some sort of injury…spent a month in bed for something or other. Said it was at his job—he's a mechanic—mobile suits, though, not cars…but there was something off about his injuries. They didn't seem the type of thing you'd get from that line of work." _

It had left him thinking…about what Wufei had said regarding his connections to G. He knew he should be handing the case over to his department—there wasn't even a 'real' case to define, actually…and, by all the rules and regulations of the PP unit, he was supposed to submit any trace of a doubt regarding an individual _to_ the agency…and then they would filter the information appropriately. But he couldn't help the nagging sentiment that they wouldn't pay him much mind if he _did_ write up a formal report to Headquarters. He had a feeling they'd brush it off indefinitely—if not certainly.

A glance at his watch told him he had better get to work. Today was the first in a week when he'd be able to return to the offices. Thank God for that. He figured he'd recede into apoplectic fits if he had to stand another day of field work. He'd be glad to be back in the lab—computer lab, that is—surrounded by his decoding equipment, and ever-suggestive partner.

* * *

"Heero!"

Heero turned at the call of his name, not particularly used to being referred to as anything but Yuy by anyone at Headquarters. There were a lovely two exceptions—one being the new receptionist, who was just shy of twenty and had blatantly refused to refer to a man who was a mere two years older as a 'sir'—and Milliardo's sister, in this case the Vice-Foreign-Minister, who had rather taken a liking to his person, and referred to him much as one would an old friend. "Yes?"

"You've got a visitor," her blue eyes twinkled mischievously as she spoke, "he's an intriguing guy."

"Who is it?"

"I'll let you find out. I think if I describe him, I just might give it away."

The young man quirked an unimpressed eyebrow, "You're professionalism is striking."

"I try, I try."

* * *

Trowa glanced up from his magazine upon hearing the bubbly call out to a young man who had recently entered. He was slim, had a brown mess of hair, and—from what he could discern—seemed of a rather serious fibre. A pale brown brow rose curiously. Was this the guy Duo had been so distressed about? He looked stern, granted, and infinitely intimidating…but he didn't look so bad that his friend had to request he come along…'just in case.' In fact, there was something about him that was innately likeable—almost as though, in his act of intimidation, it made him all the more agreeable. At least, Duo would think so.

The tall brunette smiled to himself as he relaxed on the couch.

* * *

Heero walked towards his office, mild curiosity nipping at him, and hesitated a bit before entering. Somehow, Hilde had found his guest 'intriguing', whatever that definition entailed—and Hilde knew him sufficiently enough to be accurate in her predictions.

He turned the knob to his door with practiced ease, and walked into the room…and right into a pair of amethyst eyes.

* * *

"You!"

Duo shifted nervously as he rose from the chair he'd been lounging on, extending his hand as he resisted the urge to frown, "Duo Maxwell." His voice was soft…barely recognizable. The moss-haired youth realized it too, and his eyes narrowed at the discrepancy of _this_ Duo, and the one he'd met at the Spaceport. Reluctantly, but never wavering, he extended his own hand.

No one ever said he had to be rude. "Heero Yuy."

"Yeah…your secretary told me."

"She's not my secretary."

Brazen. Succint. Straight to the point. "Why are you here?"

The braided youth hesitated momentarily, "My stuff—it's not at the spaceport."

He'd been hoping he wouldn't ask about that. He had to find out certain things before they got that far; he didn't want his target being free to go without having garnered some sort of information from him. "What makes you think I have it?"

"I…you would have turned it in…"

Heero frowned a little against his better judgment, "I don't have it at this very moment."

Duo gave a slow nod. That would imply another meeting. He blinked up tentatively, not particularly eager to lock gazes with the man's eyes—however beautiful they might be—and swallowed. "When would I be able to get them? I need…them for a flight. I need to get to Earth."

_Need to get to Earth?_

"How do you know Professor G?"

The American man was startled, "What? Professor G?"

"How do you know him?"

Duo thought he might have answered—out of sheer surprise—if it hadn't been for the man's insistence. There was something odd about the question—about the way those Prussian depths were focusing on him…about the way he was so tense.

Instinct. Always trust instinct.

"He's a man I help out occasionally," he studied Heero's expression carefully as he spoke, "he's old…so sometimes I run errands for him, get his groceries—that type of thing."

"What about the communications device that was stolen from the Vice-Foreign-Minister?"

"What?" Duo seemed truly confused by the question; as though he weren't sure exactly what it was Heero asked. "I don't…the Vice-Foreign-Minister? I've never seen him."

"Her."

"Her?"

Heero gave a sharp nod, "It's a woman."

"Oh," A bit of a blush kissed at his cheeks. "I've never seen her. Listen, when can I get my stuff?"

The officer made a frustrated noise, somewhere between a growl and a sigh. "Tonight, if you want. Which is easier for you—the Spaceport or here?"

"Well…actually—they're both far from where I'm staying."

Silence.

"I was thinking…maybe nearer to the Newport Center?"

It was a mall in the middle of the colony—large, and the biggest location for shopping of all kinds—clothes, machinery, gardening, _everything_. It was an even sort of exchange…even the mall had to be closer to the officer than either Headquarters _or_ the Spaceport.

"All right. At seven sharp. A minute later and I'm gone."

Duo nodded. "All right. Seven. At the entrance."

* * *

Somehow, Duo knew that when he said seven, he'd end up—because of whatever ill fate possessed him—a good half hour late. Normally, he wouldn't have cared, but given the circumstances…shit.

He sped his pace further, cursing the fact that Trowa had taken the car to visit his sister _that_ particular night, even _after_ he'd told him he'd need it, and hadn't bothered to warn him about the fact. "Damn bastard." He might have even been able to catch the bus, had he known.

Another glance at his watch told him it was five minutes to seven-thirty, and he pondered turning back. The man _had_ said he wouldn't stay at the Center a minute after seven. And a _terribly_ naïve part inside him believed the fact.

By the time he was at the entrance it _was_ seven-thirty, and a quick glance around him told him it'd be hell trying to find the officer if he was still there. Crowds of people were gathered in clusters, talking, flirting—finding friends. He almost felt melancholic. High School, looking back on it, had been the best time of his life…there had been very little responsibilities for him—even if he _had_ gone through the entire experience alone—and the constant stream of friendships had been a unvarying lightening to his mood. He missed his friends; they'd always made him feel at ease. Without _him_…without the gang—without Solo…it was so easy to fall back on old habits…to be paranoid, to always want to please even if the person he was trying to please didn't deserve it. And he missed _him_ most of all.

"God, let's not go through that again."

He frowned at the train of thought he was beginning to follow and rubbed at his eyes. He didn't have time for his own histrionics, given the occasion.

"It was about time."

Recognizing the voice, though it still wasn't familiar to him, Duo spun, amethyst locking on prussian, and felt his throat drop to his stomach. "I—I'm sorry."

He tried his best grin then, nervousness triggering the more instinctive side of him, and stretched, "How long did I have you waiting, exactly?"

"About an hour."

"But I thought we said seven?"

"I'm always punctual."

The unstated was obvious. _And you aren't_.

"I'll make it up to you—you haven eaten yet, have you?"

Somehow…despite the sheer impulsiveness of the question, Heero rather felt like agreeing. The taller man was glancing at him expectantly, waiting for an answer, and Heero nodded despite himself, "Where to?"

"Uh…I know just the place," he winked, "we might even get a discount."

* * *

He hadn't been kidding about the discount. Heero took a bite out of his burger and sighed. Two dollars for a hamburger—with all the embellishments one could possible desire—was near theft. And the food itself didn't _taste_ as though it had only cost a measly two Washingtons.

"So, how long ya been a cop?"

Small talk. Not something he could say he excelled at. "I'm not a cop, persay."

"Oh?" the other sounded interested, those bright violet eyes were staring into his own, near unblinking. The young man proceeded to take a rather sloppy bite from his chicken sandwich and grin at him, "What are you then?"

"Cryptographer. That's what I studied for."

"Ah. I didn't study. Didn't go to college, I mean."

For a moment, a shadow crossed Duo's face, "I mean…I _did_…I just—didn't finish." He looked up and smiled at him, "But that's old news."

"How'd you get that scar?" He wasn't normally so interested, but the scar's shape was awkward—unlike anything he'd ever really seen…and he worked for the police, for Christ's sakes.

"Hmm?" Duo looked curiously toward himself, following the other's gaze instinctively, and frowned a little at the heart-shaped scar that ran from the crook of his neck near his right shoulder, down to his left collarbone. He should have zipped up his shirt. "I had an accident helping the old man. Me and a friend of mine—" a melancholy smile crossed his face, "he came out a lot worse than I did, though."

"What happened to him?"

"He died."

The tremor in his voice was unmistakable. Heero regarded him strangely. "Oh, hey—you done already?"

Changing the topic. Another excellent attribute in someone used to persuading others.

Heero shrugged, "I guess I was hungry."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

A weary smile fell upon Duo's face, "My treat today. Next time don't wear your uniform."

* * *

_Sexy Trowa likes them, too..._


	4. Eating Cheap Hamburgers and Having a

**_Security Measures  
_**_The Weaver Atropos

* * *

_**Eating Cheap Hamburgers and a Having Wayward Talk **

He hadn't thought the man would take him to heart.

"I had a hard time recognizing you," he was smiling as he said it, taking in the sight of Heero in faded jeans and a comfortable green tank.

Duo smiled as he followed Heero along, this time to dine at the latter's place of choosing, and hummed an old tune to himself. "It looks like a wound made by a metal of sorts."

"Hmm?"

"Your scar."

"Oh…" the braided youth glanced downwards at himself. He had purposely worn a high-necked shirt to hide the scraggly cut—fact that hadn't been lost on Heero—and had been more than surprised by the other's insistence on it. "That's because it is. Or was."

A brown brow quirked upwards, "How did it happen, exactly?"

Duo fidgeted with his leather jacket before shrugging, "One of the pieces I was working on fell on top of us. Got dislodged from the hangar's anchor. I got the unfinished rough edge of the suit's hull at the neck—it started here," he pointed at his neck, "and ended up over here by the time it slid all the way down," he frowned, "it crushed my friend."

"Was that all he was, just a friend?"

To say he was startled by the question was an understatement.

"What?"

"If he was only a friend—just a question…you don't have to answer."

Once more, Duo shrugged, braid falling forwards over his shoulder, thumping a little against his chest. "What about you, Mr. Cryptographer? Got many friends?"

"A couple. A close group of comrades—nothing more, nothing less."

"No love interest?"

"Should there be?"

Amethyst eyes twinkled amusedly at the rhetoric, taking in the sight of the relaxed, albeit still wary, man. They had known each other for a few weeks—a month, maybe—and had formed a sort of loose camaraderie. They ate together every few days, mostly for the company, and talked about nothing in particular. Or rather say, Duo talked; Heero simply listened.

Duo heaved a sigh and stretched, lifting his arms about his head and shifting side to side. "God, I'm tired."

"What do you do, exactly?"

"Hmm? You mean at work?" Duo paused as they crossed the street, Heero giving a brisk nod in assent to his question and looking at him expectantly. "Mold and solder units, for the most part. Sometimes the programming…but they don't really let me have too much fun with that."

"How so?"

"Well…the programming tends to be specific to the pilot—so usually the pilot does his own programming. Unless he's a crackpot at that and mechanics; in which case I end up synchronizing the pilot to the suit," he paused as he finished, casting Heero a weary look. "It's not incredibly glamorous, especially considering I can't ever pilot myself."

That was a surprise, "Why is that?"

There was a wry grin and a knowing look in Duo's eyes as he looked meaningfully into Heero's own blue eyes, "Background checks. The government doesn't find me too reliable, apparently."

* * *

"Third time this week, Yuy." 

"Get back to work, Chang."

Wufei chuckled a bit to himself as the Japanese man sank into his chair, flipping through the contents of his desk haphazardly. "Nothing new?"

"Nothing _remarkable_, if that's your question. Just logistics on past cases to be closed."

"Fun."

"As for other things…." The black-haired man paused and dropped his voice as he leaned forward, "what have you found out about Maxwell?"

Heero hesitated in his reply. He trusted Wufei—knew he could trust him with anything—but he wasn't particularly sure of his answer. "Outside of a few questionable accidents…not much. I've got a certain…vibe…that he was in on something of G's in the past, but has distanced himself somewhat since then. Apparently there was a death involved."

Wufei was startled. "A death, of whom?"

"A friend of Maxwell's. Something more than a friend, I'd wager to say."

A thin, ebony brow rose, "A lover?"

He nodded, "I'm pretty damn sure."

* * *

"Duo! You got a visitor!" 

"Hmm…?"

Duo glanced down curiously from his position atop the Leo suit, soldering gun held in hand, protective suit on, headpiece over his eyes. He flipped the switch and the flame on the solder died down. Pulling at the headpiece leisurely, he glanced down, wondering who could be looking for him. Trowa rarely made an appearance by his workplace—and when he did, he would usually advise him of the fact in advance—and he really hadn't had a real visitor for a good year or two. Ever since the accident.

_"Ne! Duo! Come down!" _

_The voice, sweet and mellow, had dragged him from his work, managing—somehow—to disturb his focus. He glanced down the nose of the suit he was working on, feeling a slight rush of adrenalin when he realized how high up he was, and took in the sight of the small blonde near the entrance of the shop. He was dressed in a beige suit and was waving a sealed envelope enthusiastically at him. Quatre. _

_He hopped down to the suit's forearm, sliding a bit down its fingertips until he was by its kneecap, and latched himself on the wire pulley that would take him to the shop's floor. He tore off his sweaty cap and flashed the shorter blond a mischievous smile. "Hey." _

_There were grease splatters on his cheeks and on his clothes, but the blonde reeled him in for a quick hug nonetheless, his fingertips lingering more than they normally would—the touch persisting enough to suggest more than a mere friendship. _

_The blonde's voice fell to a whisper as he looked around, "I got off early. I was hoping we could eat somewhere," he turned his head behind him and squinted at the bright sunlight, "I got the car ready." _

_Duo doubted he could have assented quickly enough to his request. _

When he finally _did_ peer down the suit's ledge, it was to find a fine mop of unruly brown hair—not a head full of platinum blonde. Heero? What was he doing here?

He slid down the machine as quickly as his years of expertise permitted, wiping at his cheek inordinately, remembering that he always managed to slather himself with grease. "Heero? What's up, man?"

Bright blue eyes looked upwards at him, "I was in the area. Thought maybe we could catch lunch or something. You free?"

Duo looked around, gauging exactly how much his absence would be missed, and took in a deep breath as he smiled. "Sure. Gimme a minute."

Heero gave a nod and watched as the young man made to the eastern wing of the hollow building, tossing his gloves and wriggling out of his overalls. He remained clad in a marred white sleeveless and faded jeans. After a few seconds he was jogging towards him and they were out of the shop.

* * *

Heero regarded him as he spoke, taking in his fine, masculine jaw and somewhat pixie nose. He was a paradoxical specimen—feminine and masculine all at the same time. There were aspects of his persona that seemed childish, and others yet that screamed of timed maturity. He liked looking at him. 

"….and then I found five dollars."

"Hmm?" Heero's brow wrinkled as he became vaguely aware that Duo was staring at him intently, quite attentive to the fact that he hadn't been listening to what he'd been saying for the past few minutes. "Am I really that interesting?"

"What?"

"My face…is it really that fascinating to you?"

And they were back were they had started. Duo was back to being the flirtatious—if not sensual—individual he'd met at the airport, and he was back to being the surprised, somewhat inexperienced victim. Despite it all, he wasn't hesitant to admit he'd been waiting for the vibrant, exuberating presence he'd met at the spaceport to reemerge.

He might as well take advantage of the opportunity.

"Why did you leave that day, at the spacesport?"

"Why did you stop me?"

"I asked first."

"So you did. Doesn't mean I have to answer first."

"Why don't you just tell me?"

"Why don't _you_ just tell _me?"_

"Duo—"

The young man sighed, "I just remembered stuff I didn't want to remember. That's all."

"About him. Your 'friend'?"

An awkward silence filled the room. They were in Duo's bedroom—at Trowa's apartment. He'd been staying there for the better part of three months now. Duo nodded as he looked away, "Yeah."

"It gets better if you talk about it." The voice was soft. And something in it suggested it had experienced similar strife.

"What's there to say?" his voice was low—near broken.

And he was surprised when Heero rose from his position by the window and settled himself beside him on the floor. "It's never good to hold it in, Duo. It just festers and rots…and settles."

"I…don't like it."

"Don't like what?" his voice was but a whisper at his side…comforting in ways Duo would have never thought it could be. Heero wasn't the type to be considerate—he wasn't gentle—wasn't tender…and yet here he was pushing his hair away from his face, touching him soothingly...fingertips just barely making contact on his skin.

"…Remembering…remembering everything…"

"Sometimes it's good to remember…you can't let the grief take away the good that happened."

"…It was my fault…"

Chestnut locks shook to and fro as the young man hiccupped, his eyes red-rimmed, streaks of tears staining his pale cheeks. "It was my fault."

_A pale, ivory-tinted hand wiped a bead of sweat off a flushed forehead. The tone was affectionate as it teased, "You sweat an awful lot, Duo." _

_A rich chuckle filled the air, and Duo caught the youth's hand in his own, lips pressed to his fingertips, feeling the blonde shift to accommodate his outstretched hand. The tug had sent Quatre on all fours, and an amused look__overtook his features. "Duo—" _

_It was said in such a tone as to dissuade him, but it did little but spur him on, "I've missed you." _

_"Have you?" The young man crawled closer, nursing his hand back to himself with a weary smile. "I'm sorry. Work has kept me busy." _

_"How old are you again? You act like an old Geezer." _

_"I'm at the head of my family's estate and business, Duo. I have to be an old, tasteless man. At least I'm not wrinkled." _

_"That I know." _

_A faint blush caressed Quatre's cheeks. But it was true…the blonde was anything but old…his skin was smooth—firm, pale all over…defined. And his skin burned beneath Duo's hands whenever they touched—when they made love. He was ebullient youth at its finest. "So…how long till you get off?" _

_"Give me another hour. I can't completely blow off my job." _

_The blonde heaved another sigh, this one more petulant than the last. For not seeming wealthy in all his humility and generosity, Quatre certainly had one aspect of his upbringing he hadn't quite conquered, and that was his desire to be catered to at all times. He wasn't malicious about it, and he turned a bright red whenever Duo pointed the fact out, but it was a part of his personality either way. _

_"All right. I'll be right here. Trying not to distract you with my sexy self." _

_"That's so characteristic, Quatre. So characteristic." _

"What happened next?"

Duo shrugged, eyes focused on the spot on the floor between his knees. "The rigging wasn't tight enough…I don't know…I should have realized—it normally only holds the weight of fifteen people…and he was there that day, and I had lugged up a piece of equipment to finish the work…and I didn't realize—"

"There was an overload." Not a question. Matter-of-fact.

The young man's braid fell forward as he nodded. "And since he was sitting so far away…he couldn't reach for the railing…couldn't reach for me."

"So he fell."

He nodded again, "…Fell down…" the look in those amethyst depths indicated he could see it happening, even then, "…his eyes—he looked…so scared…and—"

Thin shoulders shuddered forward with racking breaths, "And I reached for him, and I let go of the railing…and he seemed even more scared at the fact. And then I don't remember anything…just waking up…and seeing his body…mangled…"

Heero gave an affirming nod as he wrapped his arms about Duo, cradling the trembling man. "I don't…never…"

"It's okay…" his hands rubbed at his back in circles, nuzzling his cheek against the crook of Duo's neck, closing his eyes as the other's trembling increased. "Trowa knows?"

Duo pulled away slightly, rubbing at his eyes, and hiccupped a nod, "He…he was—the only one that I knew." The young man paused, seemingly aware of their position—of how close Heero was to him—of how involved they suddenly were. He smiled a little. "Want some coffee?"

"Thank you."

"No problem," he stood and wiped at his eyes, "hey…you wanna—stay the night?"

He didn't think he'd ever been more sure of his answer, "Yeah."

* * *

"You're crazy," Duo grinned as he flopped down beside Heero on the couch, fingers pressing on the remote as he searched for an adequate channel, "using Disney movies to capture a criminal." 

"It's called being resourceful," he extended a tan arm towards Duo and dipped his hand into the bowl of popcorn the boy held close.

"Sure Trowa doesn't mind my being here?" he looked behind him as he spoke, thinking he heard the sound of kitchenware clinking.

"Nah…he's downstairs already. Won't be up till three or four in the morning."

"I feel like I'm leeching your supplies."

"Don't worry about it," he slung an arm about Heero's shoulders, "how many times have I abused Wufei's hospitality?"

"Once."

"Yeah, well, what can I say…the guy doesn't like me."

The chestnut-haired man smiled once more, remembering the look on the Chinese man's face when he'd found out Duo had used his toothbrush to scrub the cracks in the bathroom. "You deserved to be kicked out."

"Yeah well…you didn't have to laugh when he did it."

"I've just never seen him so riled up."

"I'm sure."

* * *

"Why are we talking about this?" 

"Because…I want to know, and you want to tell me. Now go."

Heero shifted uncomfortably, tank rising slightly up his abdomen at the movement. "All right. But you've got to tell me after I'm done."

"Deal."

"My worst sexual misadventure…that'd have to be my boss' daughter."

"What! _You?__You s_lept with your boss' daughter!"

The young man glared defensively. "Not this boss. And she damn near raped me."

Duo doubled over with laughter, clutching at his stomach as he rolled off Heero's bed. "Never would have pegged you for _that_ type."

"Your turn."

"My turn?" Duo paused in thought, biting a little at his lower lip, "I've had tons, to be honest. But I guess…" he hesitated momentarily, looking towards Heero uncertainly.

"I told you mine."

Fair enough. Still…The braided man took in a deep breath and closed one eye, glancing at the lounging agent through it, "All right…it was the first time I ever had sex—"

"That's not bad."

"—with a man."

"Oh."

An awkward pause followed. "It was a royal mess. God. Awful," Duo shook his head at the memory, face disgusted, "God…how the hell did it even…I don't know."

His cheeks were flushed, but he managed a slight smile. "I'm sorry if I traumatized you with that."

"Not traumatized," there was a strange expression in Heero's eyes, and his hair tickled at his nose, "my first time was a mess, too."

"Oh?" A raised brow, "Girls can be a little messier." It was matter-of-fact. He knew what he was talking about. His experiences weren't only limited to males.

His expression didn't change, and his tone was deadpan, "I meant men."

Oh. Well then. That changed _everything_.

"Oh. So you're…"

"Gay."

"Gay. Oh."

"You're not?"

"No, I am."

"Not bi?"

"No. Just gay."

"Gay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

* * *

"It's so nice." 

Heero gave a sharp nod, "I used to come out with…friends when I was younger. See the stars. Camp out."

"Younger? How old do you think you _are_?"

He sighed, "Old enough to know there isn't time for stargazing."

Heero made to turn, prussian gaze already fixed on the house's sliding door, and stopped only when Duo's fingertips tightened around his wrist. "There's always time for something if you want to make it."

"Is there?"

Duo gave a nod, and his fingertips dared to twine about the other man's. "Stay out for a bit…?"

There was a slight hesitance before his fingertips relaxed. "Okay."

* * *

"Professor G?" 

Heero nodded, strengthening the pressure of his hand against Duo's head, stroking the young man's chestnut tresses, sighing at the pleasurable weight of his body against his, closing his eyes as he breathed in his essence. "What do you want to know?"

"How do you know him?"

Duo sighed, fingertips teasing at the buttons of Heero's shirt, "When I was younger…I stumbled onto him. He was someone willing to offer bread and shelter when I had none."

His fingertips trailed lower, caressing at Duo's nape, feeling the young man's breathing even as he continued, "And…he taught me…what I know today."

"Your scar?" Heero right index drifted further down, between their bodies, outlining the uplifted skin of his healed wound.

Duo shivered, "I told you already."

"They're overlapping?"

Duo stiffened. "What?"

"Your scars. They're overlapping."

"What are you talking about?"

Before he had any other chance to inquire, he found himself on his back, Heero pinning his hands at both sides of his head, glare evident. "That scar of yours, the one you got in that accident…it's only half the story."

Duo looked away at the suggestion, knowing full well that there _was_ more to the story, and shrugged. "So what if it is?"

"How'd you get it?" he eased up at the question, resting back on his haunches and letting Duo sit up.

"You always ask questions."

"And you never do."

* * *

_He was dead. No more Quatre. No more half-day visits…no more __midnight__ rendezvous…no more violins—no more anything. And it was his fault. Duo rested the heels of his palms against his closed lids, taking in a shuddering breath and vaguely aware of the soft hands at his shoulders, "It'll be okay, Duo. You can stay with me at the house until you sort things out." _

_Trowa. He'd be lost without him. Duo sighed as he pulled himself upright, managing a watery smile, and shakingly brought his hands together, "Thanks. I've still…got some things I've got to sort through, though." _

_The tall brunette nodded, squeezing at his friend's shoulder before moving away. Duo was grateful, but in the grand scheme of things, Trowa was but one assuaging presence among many. _

"I don't remember how I got it."

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

And he could see it in his eyes; he wasn't lying. He really didn't remember.

* * *

_He'd awakened at the hospital, a huge uncomfortable bandage across his chest, a vague throbbing sensation at his sternum telling him the injury was more than superficial. He'd tried to move—in vain—and had realized a multitude and variance of tubes were sticking out of random orifices in his body, needles jabbed here and there, the dull beeping of a machine making him all the more aware of his setting. _

_And that smell of near obsessive cleanliness—of sterilization—it was all about him…he could almost see it, taste it, even… _

_"Trowa?" his voice was a croak, but the intended looked up, stirring from his position in a nearby chair. A soft smile graced the normally impassive man's face. _

_"Hey there," his fingertips pressed slightly at the hair about his face, "how you doing?" _

_"Why…why are we here?" _

_"You had an accident." _

_The puzzled look in the man's eyes was met with a similar one, echoed in emerald depths, "We found you at the floor of the shop." _

_

* * *

_

Duo shrugged a little, looking away from Heero, "They found me there. Blood pooled everywhere. They thought I was dead at first, but…they don't know what happened, and neither do I."

Heero frowned and heaved a heavy sigh. "But you're okay now?" he pushed back at the man's bangs, keeping his hand in place so he could have clear access to his violet eyes. Duo shrugged, looking away, shoulders sagging. "I don't think I'll ever be okay…"

The young man frowned a little, pink lips pulled down at the edges, "Never?"

"Never."

* * *


	5. I Felt like a Butterfly

**

* * *

_Security Measures  
_**_The Weaver Atropos_

_

* * *

_**I Felt Sort of Like a Butterfly**

"I'm leaving."

"Leaving?" Startled amethyst eyes drifted upwards from amid a grease-streaked face. Duo wiped his palms against a rag pulled through a loop in his jeans and studied Heero curiously. "Where ya going?"

"Earth."

"Earth?"

A nod.

"_I've always wanted to go to Earth."_

"How long?"

Heero shrugged, "For however long the assignment is," he paused and regarded Duo purposefully. "Would you like to come along?"

"_Yeah? I've always wanted to go there, too. But my place is here. In the colonies."_

"Where are we going?"

"Does it really matter?"

* * *

Heero faced Wufei with an absent sort of expression, "I can't do it."

"You'll be dropped if you don't."

"I…"

"You don't care, then? Is that it?"

The agent hesitated, breathing in deeply and looking away, "I can't turn him in. Not after all the trust he's put in me."

"So you're saying you found something out?"

"…I think I might have."

_The young man slowly drew his hair together, plaiting it evenly and with practiced ease. "Did you always have your hair like that?"_

"_No…it used to go loose when I was younger."_

"_It was always this long?"_

_He had to bite down on his lip to keep from reaching towards him, eager to feel the silkiness of his hair against his skin. _

"_Yeah."_

"_Why didn't you braid it before?"_

"_I didn't know how back then."_

"_Then who taught you?"_

"_One of the sisters at the orphanage."_

_Heero raised his head further, studying the man a few feet from him with curiosity. "You grew up in an orphanage?"_

_The man smiled faintly, "Yeah."_

"_For how long?"_

"_A few years."_

"_Then what happened?"_

"_Everyone died."_

_Everyone died? Vaguely…very vaguely Heero remembered hearing about something of the sort. He'd been younger—careless and ignorant to the happenings in the world. "And before that?"_

"_Before that was Solo and the others."_

"_The others?"_

_This time the smile was melancholic. "Yeah. Ricky and Li, and Sei."_

"_And what happened to them?"_

"_They all died, too."_

_Duo snapped a rubber band tightly around the end of his braid and turned to face him. "The only one I've had around me all this time has been my buddy Deathscythe."_

_He didn't even bother hiding his confusion at that one. But it didn't seem to matter to Duo. He was speaking—though not necessarily to him—and there was no stopping him. "Me and my buddy. Shinigami and the Grim Reaper."_

_And that one definitely rung a bell. Shinigami. He'd seen the name headlined so many times throughout his youth—even up until a few years ago, the name had been legend. It had been the codename of one of the rebels which had been leaked to the press. The others had been safe, but Shinigami had undergone the greatest of intelligence scrutiny to date. And they still hadn't found him._

_And there he was, sitting with a pretty smile on his lips, cross legged and looking at him expectantly._

_He'd delivered his secret to an FBI agent._

_  
And he expected a betrayal._

_

* * *

_

**But Just a little bit more okay.**

Duo hummed slowly to himself, glancing at the man beside him absently, taking in the dark glittering expanse just outside his window. "I've always wanted to go to Earth," and his voice was a whisper, soft and nearly lost in the buzzing of the Shuttle.

"You've never been?"

"No. But I've always wanted to get away."

"Why is that?"

The braided youth shrugged. There was no explanation, really. It was just a sentiment. He turned twinkling eyes toward Heero. "Where _are_ we going anyway?"

The other shrugged. "It wasn't something I had planned."

"Oh?"

"I hoped we could figure it out along the way."

Duo smiled, yawning and raising his arms above his head in a stretch, letting his head fall comfortably against Heero's shoulder, voice muffled against the cloth. "Sounds like a brilliant idea."

Heero smiled a little despite himself. "Yeah. How are you feeling?"

Duo closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "I'm okay."

_Just okay._

_ Owari._

_

* * *

_

_**I started out daydreaming,  
And then woke up hungover,  
And I was looking at your and seeing someone else.  
Eating Cheap Hamburgers and having a Wayward Talk,  
I felt like sort of like a Butterfly,  
But just a little bit more okay.**_

_

* * *

_I meant to have this up a while ago, but I was having problems uploading to the site. I had to hop around a bit and improvise to finally get it up. Sorry for the wait, and thanks to those who reviewed!_  
_


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